You Think You Know Me

by Clare Chase

  ‘So,’ Nadine said, ‘creative arts generally, from cooking, to acting, to painting. It is a nice mixture, and it must be so interesting.’

  I was astounded. She was making the various things I had been dabbling in sound like a coherent career. Suddenly I was a textile artist and a creative arts journalist, giving up some of my valuable time to help out at the gallery. ‘I do get to meet some fascinating people,’ I said.

  ‘Well,’ Nadine said, after draining her coffee cup, ‘I would love to exhibit your bags.’

  I paused for a second, caught on the back foot once again.

  ‘I run a crafts gallery you see,’ she said, ‘in Chelsea. Your bags would be a great success I know.’ She reached into her own bag and pulled out a card. ‘Could we meet to talk about it some more? You could come to my gallery and have a look round.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I found myself saying. It would be fine so long as she didn’t actually sell any. If someone really wanted to buy one I wasn’t quite sure how I’d find the time.

  ‘Perhaps you could come over after you finish here one evening next week? We could say Wednesday? Maybe six-thirty and we can have a drink?’

  I nodded, making a note of the date.

  ‘The other thing is,’ Nadine went on, getting ready to walk back to the front entrance, ‘I think I can introduce you to a lot of interesting people; you could interview them for your freelance work.’ She looked at me. ‘If that would be helpful?’

  ‘It sounds wonderful. Thank you.’

  She beamed again. ‘Well, I look forward to returning your hospitality when you come and see me.’

  I took the stairs back up to my office in a trance-like state. If it hadn’t been for everything that was going on with Darrick, I would have felt extremely happy, though where it left my work for Seb, I didn’t know. Of course, I had told Darrick I was intending to leave. Now I might have to find out if I’d really meant it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  By lunchtime I was still full of cake, so I worked through until Baz called up to say that Lawrence Conran had arrived. I found I was nervous about meeting him and, more specifically, about what he might say.

  The man standing at the front desk was tall and broad like Darrick, but where Darrick was dark, Lawrence Conran was blond. I saw Baz indicating my approach and he turned to shake my hand.

  He had a ready smile, reminding me for a moment of Alicia’s Lester, and his handshake was warm and firm. I concluded that he must have come by car, or else have very good gloves. Outside, mist was rolling over the ground and the people coming in off the street were shivering. They had their coats pulled closely around them, only gradually letting them fall open as they reached the gallery interior.

  ‘Would you like to go straight on up?’ I said. ‘Or you might prefer a coffee first?’

  He shook his head. ‘Straight on up’s fine thanks. I’ve just had lunch.’ He followed me to the stairs. ‘No Seb today then?’

  ‘He was very sorry not to be able to make it. He’d blocked this morning out of course, but this afternoon he’s got back-to-back meetings. If it hadn’t been for the change of plan …’ I let the sentence trail off and saw that Lawrence was looking at me, grinning.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, and I had a feeling he saw right through that little excuse.

  On the second floor, where the general exhibition was, there were several groups dotted around. ‘I do hope you don’t mind seeing it like this,’ I said, indicating them. ‘At least it’s not too busy yet. We tend to get more people later in the afternoon.’

  Lawrence shook his head, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes. ‘It’s no problem,’ he said. ‘Seb always wants me to come in the morning for some reason. Maybe it makes him feel less self-conscious about his sales pitch.’ He laughed. ‘I actually like being here with other people. I have my own ideas about what I want to buy anyway and, try as he might, Seb seldom changes them.’

  He walked towards the far wall to begin his inspection. ‘What might sway me is overhearing the comments the visitors make. That tends to be more significant.’

  As he went quiet the conversation of a couple next to us came into focus. ‘Just lovely,’ the woman was saying. ‘So pretty. And look, Jack! Doesn’t that dog remind you of Auntie Bettie’s spaniel?’

  I looked at Lawrence and raised an eyebrow.

  His stifled laugh came out as a snort. ‘Well all right,’ he said, ‘I must admit nothing, not even a comment like that from a potential buyer, is going to make me put an offer in for that one. I hope Seb’s not losing his touch.’

  A moment later though he was looking very closely at a painting of the sea by someone called Zara Thomas. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘The spaniel painting was clearly just a blip. I’d heard he’d got some of Zara’s in. She’s not selling for much over five hundred at the moment, but it’s my bet that will rise a huge amount in the next couple of years.’ He scribbled a note on the list of pictures I’d given him.

  I was trying to concentrate on what he said, but at the same time Seb’s words rang in my ears. Lawrence might give something away about what was behind Darrick Farron’s unorthodox visit. He was hardly likely to do that unless I said something to lead him in the right direction. But did I want to? That was the question.

  Although I didn’t necessarily like the idea of having to report back to Seb, I wanted to know on my own account. As Lawrence worked his way round, passing some paintings without a second glance, whilst scrutinising others, I wondered how to broach the subject.

  Lawrence was very efficient. I didn’t feel I made any significant contribution to his spending spree at all. When he’d looked around the whole collection he went through what he was interested in, showing me the items on the price list.

  ‘Seb’s asking over the odds for this Bennett-Jones,’ he said, leaving me feeling lame. Negotiating on price wasn’t something I had the authority to handle. ‘Would you tell him I’ll take it for seven-fifty? Nine hundred’s way more than it’s worth at the moment. I’ll take each of the others for the prices I’ve itemised.’

  I could see he’d marked them all down, at least a little.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, seeing my face, ‘the price list is just for the tourists really. Seb won’t be expecting me to offer as much.’

  As we left the room I was feeling rather green and inadequate. I obviously hadn’t picked up on the protocol. ‘Would you like to come to the cafe for a drink now?’ I asked.

  I knew it was probably more appropriate to take him to one of the plush meeting rooms upstairs, but I hadn’t discussed this with Seb. If we went up now he might be busy wandering round, obviously not in back-to-back meetings, so maybe the cafe was safest. Besides, if I was going to probe about Darrick, I’d rather hear what Lawrence had to say on my own first.

  ‘That would be very nice,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

  On our way downstairs I ran off a photocopy of Lawrence’s list of planned purchases and handed it in at the front desk. ‘The marked ones are sold,’ I said, ‘just in case anyone asks after them.’

  Debbie mouthed, ‘Wow,’ and took the list from me, grinning.

  At the cafe I was worried I might try the patience of the waiting staff, so once again I nipped up to the counter, having invited Lawrence to take a seat. ‘I’ll take everything over,’ I said quickly.

  ‘If we’d known you’d be bringing him down here …’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry – it was a spur of the moment thing.’

  But Lawrence seemed very happy with the situation. He sat back in his chair – the picture of contentment – and watched the world go by, smiling broadly, until I returned with the same coffee and cake offering Nadine had been treated to that morning. I put down the tray and arranged things.

  ‘So,’ he said, when I’d laid the tray back on its stack, ‘you’ve just started working here?’

  Now was my chance. ‘That’s right,’ I said, ‘but although I’ve only been a
t the gallery just over a week, I did pop in to see Zachariah Shakespeare’s private view.’

  Lawrence grinned and took a sip of his coffee. ‘You did, did you?’

  I nodded. ‘Funnily enough, I met a friend of yours there.’

  He was laughing quietly now.

  ‘Only he seemed rather confused. He told me at first that he was your brother.’

  At this Lawrence laughed outright. ‘Is Seb still furious with me?’ he said. ‘I assume that’s what all this not-coming-down-to-see-me is about.’ He looked at me. ‘Though I’d far rather have you show me round than Seb any day. He always says far too much.’

  ‘Well he’d probably have had quite a bit to say to you today,’ I said.

  ‘I knew it.’ He relaxed back in his chair again, not looking at all disconcerted. ‘Normally he takes me upstairs for a horribly formal cup of coffee in one of his trendy little meeting rooms instead of letting me in here. When you suggested coming to the cafe I knew he was seriously avoiding me.’

  ‘I suppose he does have the right to be a little bit annoyed,’ I said, taking care not to sound too judgemental.

  Lawrence laughed again. ‘Oh I suppose you’re right. He’s got no cause to take it all so seriously though. I’ve known Darrick for years and when he said he needed to come in privately to investigate one of his cases I was confident he’d be discreet.’ He picked up his coffee. ‘He’s a professional. He can see trouble at a hundred paces and he’s quite capable of dealing with it very efficiently without upsetting the apple cart.’

  I felt a huge sense of relief that Darrick had given Lawrence the same explanation as he had me for coming to the private view. ‘You’re good friends then?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘I’ve known him since school. Not that he’s always that easy to keep track of. I guess that goes with his type of business.’

  What he was saying was adding to my general impression of Darrick, but I really wanted to know more. If I didn’t chance my arm he would finish his coffee and go, without me working out what to do.

  The thought made me bold. ‘It’s an amazing coincidence that Darrick knew Seb’s old girlfriend, Julia Thorpe.’ I felt my cheeks flush, but it was too late, I’d said it. There was no going back now.

  ‘You knew her too?’ he asked.

  I nodded. ‘I was friends with Seb back in our university days, so I met her quite a few times when they were going out.’

  ‘I see,’ Lawrence said, picking up a brownie. ‘Now you come to mention it I suppose it is a coincidence. Although there’s the art world connection of course.’ He looked across at me. ‘Once you’ve been in the business for as long as I have, you start to feel it’s a very small community indeed. The same people keep cropping up again and again.’

  I was puzzled. ‘Well, I know Julia wanted to study art,’ I said. ‘I remember her coming down to London to look round the various schools, but …’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ Lawrence said. ‘No, I was thinking of the artworks she owned.’

  I felt my skin prickle. Here was something I hadn’t been aware of. I knew I had to keep on acting my part, so I laughed, but even to me it sounded slightly shaky. ‘Well I didn’t know about those.’ I paused for a moment. ‘She was always quite shy you see. She didn’t like to draw attention to herself and sometimes I feel I didn’t know as much about her as I should have.’

  Lawrence munched on his cake and then said, ‘Yes, I remember Darrick saying she was quite reserved.’

  Maybe he didn’t get her into bed then, I thought.

  ‘I suppose she talked to him about the pictures because she knew he was in the business,’ Lawrence went on.

  ‘Where on earth had she got them from?’

  ‘Oh she hadn’t collected them herself,’ Lawrence said. ‘They must have come to her via her family I suppose. I understand she didn’t see a lot of her parents or spend much time at home until after they’d died. Darrick said it was only at that point that she came back from boarding school. It seems likely that she found out about the existence of the art collection then, when she started going through all the things that had been put into storage.’

  ‘And what did Darrick think of what she’d got?’

  ‘Oh he never saw any of the pieces, but he told me what she’d said about them at the time.’ He took up his cup. ‘He was quite excited by it.’

  ‘Really?’

  Lawrence nodded. ‘Most of the pieces sounded like amateur works by family members. But a couple didn’t fit. She had some photos of them, though they weren’t very clear. Nonetheless, Darrick reckoned she could have been sitting on a real find. I must admit, I was more sceptical, but she’d done some investigating herself apparently. Don’t laugh, but she’d come to the conclusion that the two in the photographs were lost works from one of Goya’s Private Albums.’

  ‘Blimey,’ I said.

  ‘Blimey would cover it very nicely, if it had been true.’

  ‘Wasn’t it then?’

  ‘I don’t think it can have been,’ Lawrence said. ‘To be fair on the poor girl she was only twenty or something, and not experienced in assessing works of art. The one thing that gave the story some credence was that Darrick looked into it and found her account of the drawings tied in with old descriptions of Goya’s untraced works. I think Julia might have trusted him enough to let him take a look, only of course, you know what happened next.’

  I nodded and he looked at me with kind eyes.

  ‘Poor girl. She killed herself shortly after they met and so I presume the paintings all went off to some relative.’ His gaze drifted across the room, but not as though he saw what was in front of him. ‘Now either that relative never looked into their value, and they’re still sitting in an attic somewhere gathering dust or, more likely …’ He faced me again. ‘… they investigated their provenance properly, found they weren’t as exciting as Julia had hoped, and sold them at a jumble sale.

  ‘One thing’s for certain,’ he added, ‘if whoever inherited had knowingly found a couple of Goya’s drawings we’d have read about it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  In the stairwell I stood for a moment, thinking of everything Lawrence had said before he’d left. Had Seb known about the artworks? It was unthinkable that Julia wouldn’t have told him, particularly given that it was his area of expertise, and yet if she had let on, he’d certainly never passed the information on to the rest of us.

  I tried to work out what might have happened. Maybe she had shown him and he had spotted them straight away as lesser works. He could have broken the news to her, but she might have been disappointed, and wanted a second opinion.

  And then, perhaps, she’d met Darrick by chance, found out about his expertise, and decided she might check to see if he reached a different conclusion. That seemed possible. But what was Darrick up to now? There were too many things I didn’t understand.

  Up above me I could hear someone else entering the stairwell. After a moment I identified the voice as Radley’s; her familiar, sour tone echoed down the concrete descent towards me. I caught the second half of her sentence: ‘… you’d just be honest with me in the first place.’

  Then I realised it was Seb she was with. I didn’t manage to catch his reply, but whatever it was, it was short. By the time they rounded the corner I had started walking up towards them, so as not to look peculiar.

  I could see Seb consciously relaxing his frown when he saw me, and he stepped away from Radley. ‘All right, Anna?’ he said. Then he spotted the list in my hand and sighed. ‘How much has the old bugger tried to knock off this time?’

  When I showed him the paper he raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s bought more than usual.’

  ‘Well it must be down to your taste then,’ I said. ‘I didn’t say a thing. He seemed to want peace and quiet.’

  Seb smiled.

  ‘But don’t go getting all smug,’ I added. ‘He hated the one with the spaniel.’

  ‘Ah yes,’
said Seb. ‘A bit of a wild card, that one, but I bet someone’ll buy it. Not everyone shares Lawrence’s high-brow tastes.’

  I thought of the woman we’d overheard and wondered if he might be right. ‘Seb,’ I said. ‘I wonder if I could have a quick word later, when you’re back upstairs.’

  He nodded, gave me a look that told me he knew I wasn’t going to ask about my holiday allowance, and then carried on his way. Radley nipped down just behind him, the friction between them palpable.

  In the end we arranged to go round the corner to the pub for a drink after work. ‘By the look in your eye, Anna Morris, I have a feeling I don’t want to have this conversation in the office,’ was all he said.

  He looked concerned when I met him by the front desk and, as we walked along a side street next to the gallery, he put an arm around my shoulders.

  ‘I’m going to buy you a stiff drink,’ he said, ‘and you’re going to tell me all about it. Agreed?’

  I nodded. Whatever was behind all this, it was time for a bit of honesty on my part. I just hoped what he told me in response would be reassuring. Something was making my insides feel taut as a drum.

  He drew me in closer and gave me a Seb-like hug.

  At that moment, the lights of a car, parked right next to us, flashed on. A window descended smoothly and Lawrence stuck his head out. ‘Seb old man!’ he said in a delightfully hearty tone. ‘You’ve managed to escape all those awful meetings at last.’

  Seb looked at me and raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Caught,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d gone hours ago.’

  ‘I had another appointment round the corner so I thought I’d make the most of the permit your lovely receptionist gave me and leave the old banger here.’ It was a Jaguar. ‘So, how long are you going to make me sit on the naughty stair?’

  At last Seb laughed, releasing me from his grasp to walk nearer to the car. ‘Oh all right,’ he said. ‘I forgive you. Nice choice of paintings by the way.’

  ‘She’s a great saleswoman, your Anna,’ Lawrence said, giving me a mock salute. I was glad it was too dark for him to see me blush.